I Want to Dominate a New Race

A new day dawned, and I stepped onto the Tower's seventh floor. The stage was the interior of a brick fortress — a city where orcs and Taus made their proper debut. They had enslaved goblins to raise that city of brick, and filled their bellies with whatever those slaves hunted, foraged, and farmed.

If I'd been the type to consistently take the goblins' side from the first floor through the fifth, I probably would have launched a war of liberation.

I want the orcs and Taus ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as subordinates too.

The fact that goblins were being worked as slaves didn't exactly fill me with a sense of mission. What actually interested me was dominating the orcs and Taus. Just ruling the goblins had already paid off this well — what kind of uses would the other races have? Of course I wanted them.

I'll have to settle things with the boss, then.

I made the bold decision to seek out the enemy boss so I could invite him to surrender. I wanted to take the whole pack under my wing as intact as possible, so I resolved not to touch the rank and file. Granted, I also had the confidence that even if things went sideways and I ended up fighting every last one of them, I wouldn't lose.

Having already scouted the seventh-floor clear, I reached the boss's quarters ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in no time. Ordinary climbers, lacking the kind of firepower that could barbecue an entire city the way I could, would have to film another stealth-action sequence just to clear the floor.

And you didn't even need to kill the boss. The real boss, the Tau King, wasn't part of the clear condition. Assassinating the nearby orc centurion was. And if my guess was right, folding him into my ranks without killing him would still count as a clear.

"Orc centurion."

A city of brick — but it lacked the refinement of any human city. Furniture slapped together from straw and animal hides. Inside a room packed with oversized furnishings, both orcs and Taus being enormous, I came face to face with the orc centurion.

The orc centurion spoke.

"What race are you?"

"I am human. The Great Shaman."

I was wearing that robe, so it wouldn't be easy to guess my race. But volunteering that I was a goblin slave would only earn me hostility. So this time I came out and declared I was human, fair and square.

"A feeble race! A skinny, scrawny thing!"

Apparently orcs were a heinously gym-bro species, because a slender build was something they simply could not forgive. Well, I was out of luck there. This body was just naturally that thin.

"I am not weak. I am stronger than this entire city. So submit. Surrender. Come under me."

"An orc warrior never surrenders!"

The fool drew his sword and charged. I fired a laser using the orthodox Western martial art of gun-fu and burned his wrist.

"Kchiiiek!"

The orc centurion writhed, making a sound like a pig having its throat cut. But amazingly, he didn't drop the sword. I slipped his incoming slash and sent him flying with a spinning kick.

"Kreeeeagh!"

Was I originally this strong in melee? No. It was the hidden boss accessories I'd picked up on the sixth floor. I'd tailored the Tau necklace and belt to fit my body and enhanced them.

They were one-of-a-kind items, so I'd been too scared to enhance them any further. But even this was enough to lock in solid close-combat power.

"Item power really is the best. It's intoxicating."

I walked over to the orc centurion, who was down and couldn't get up, and pressed my right foot into his chest.

"Will you surrender? Will you come under me?"

"I'd rather die than kneel to the likes of you!"

Why was a pig-head this honorable? He should've been going kchuit! kchiit! food! breed!

Then again, pigs are supposed to be incredibly intelligent. Humans cram them into cramped pens so they look filthy, and looking filthy makes them look stupid. They're also famous as predators that don't shy away from human flesh. Truly terrifying creatures, pigs. Which is why I consume pork belly, sausage, bacon, and ham every single day — to reduce the number of those terrifying pigs in the world even a little.

"Khuk!"

When I smacked my lips thinking about pork, the orc centurion flinched, as if he'd felt the terror of being eaten. But in the end, he still wouldn't surrender.

"If dying is what you want, then go."

I destroyed everything in the city searching for the seventh floor's hidden content. I incited a rebellion among the goblin slaves and unleashed the hundreds of goblins I normally kept with me. I wiped out every named orc and Tau.

But orcs and Taus — these guys were apparently a species that hated books on a fundamental level. I couldn't find a Tau dictionary or an orc dictionary no matter how hard I looked.

"Thank you for freeing us, Great Shaman!"

The newly recruited goblins numbered about two hundred. When you already have twenty thousand goblins under you, two hundred more doesn't even register.

"You lot were captured by the Taus and orcs, so you can understand their language, right?"

I'd expected that a life of slavery would have meant communication. Contrary to that hope, the goblin slaves had only been used for menial labor, so they barely knew any orcish or Tau.

"Just you wait! Cow-heads! Pig-heads! I will have you in my hands!"

It's not like I spend my entire life shuttling between home and the Tower. Sometimes I go out.

I visited a convenience store and bought a loaf of bread from a collaboration with a mushroom game. You had to buy and eat the bread, then register the stamp in the app to receive an in-game cosmetic item.

Looks are a mandatory stat, after all.

The value of a rare weapon drops every time the level cap rises and a new boss drops new gear. But the value of a discontinued look only goes up. Therefore, everyone should drop spec-chasing and just farm cosmetics. Of course, you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠still need the specs to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠afford the look-farming.

I bought the bread and stepped outside, where I ran into a woman being dragged around by a large dog, whimpering. The dog looked like it weighed almost as much as its owner, and even with a muzzle and leash she couldn't handle it — she was being hauled along like a rag.

The big dog was bouncing around like a maniac until it locked eyes with me. Then it suddenly went quiet and hid behind its owner.

You think that woman can protect your life? Now that you've met my eyes, your life ends here...

I was entertaining that useless thought when a brilliant idea struck me.

"That's it! I just need to put a leash on them!"

I went to a pet shop and swept up every large-dog leash they had. Buying about twenty of them, the shop owner looked pretty alarmed.

"Um, for people, you should use a human-grade collar."

"You're laboring under a strange misunderstanding."

Well, buying twenty leashes at once would look suspicious. But I was going to put them on cows and pigs, not people.

All twenty dog collars shattered. I didn't give up. I ordered a massive quantity of collars online. And only after burning through hundreds of dog collars was I able to create this magnificent item.

"With this, I should be able to make the orcs and Taus submit to me."

I would take everything from them — their language, their culture, their technology.

"Heh. Heh. Heh."

"Great Shaman, to create such a dangerous item... your ambition truly is vast. I chose well, coming under you."

As I laughed, Shauta buttered me up in a way that wasn't like him. Or was it sincere praise?

"You're the lucky charm. How can one person be this competent? How does a single shaman pull all this off?"

"Without the Great Shaman's martial might and intellect, I would have lived and died as nothing more than a cave shaman. Everything I have is thanks to the Great Shaman."

This was that Three Kingdoms thing. You know, whatever. With that many generals and lords, at least one pair must've had a relationship like this. Honestly I only know the Three Kingdoms memes; I've never actually read the original, so I don't know the details. The conversations of people who've reread it n times are hard to follow.

"Then I'll be heading to the eighth floor."

"Glory upon the Great Shaman's path!"

The eighth floor was a fortress, period. If the seventh floor had been a city of orcs and Taus who'd already conquered the goblins, rotting in peace and complacency, the eighth floor was nothing but armed, fighting-spirit-maxed orcs and Taus.

Why do orcs and Taus get along so well?

It couldn't be because pork and beef are flavor rivals. Maybe the orcs' muscle-worship meshed well with the Taus, who were actual muscle-packed monsters?

Is that why they despise goblins?

Goblins were pretty far from muscle-packed, after all. Skinny limbs, a bit of a potbelly.

I slowly toured the fortress, pondering who I should kidnap to learn everything about the Taus. The answer was obviously simple.

I kidnapped the commander.

I figured showing him a massacre of his own kind might send him into a berserk frenzy, so I escaped the eighth floor as-is. It was the first time I hadn't stripped a Tower floor clean.

But I wanted a guaranteed Tau more than a hidden piece that might or might not exist. Using this guy as a stepping stone, I would conquer and dominate the Taus and orcs.

"You're the stake I put on this gamble. So I'll call you Steak."

The word for a gambling stake is stakes, not steak?

I know.